Blame and Guilt
by ShellGrad
Summary: Future season 5 fic based on spoilers for season 4 finale.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: If I owned the Mentalist, I wouldn't be uploading guesses onto fanfiction. I'd already know what's going on.**

**Spoilers we've already read and seen about the season 4 finale. This is set somewhere in season 5, just a guess really. I feel as if something like this would happen if Jane wasn't at the CBI, using his wonderful skills of observation. Plus, I'm a little angry at him for what I think he might do to Lisbon (the slapping, not the hooking up with Lorelai). I think he's being a little ungrateful. But, I'm not so angry as to try and kill him in a fic. Thinking of adding a second chapter to this but unsure. Let me know what you think :)**

* * *

From a hotel room in Vegas, Jane points at a headshot on the television screen. "He did it."

Lorelai chances a glance at the middle-aged man on screen. "Did what?"

"Killed the young woman they've been talking about."

"Thought you gave up on crime-fighting," the young brunette comments with a smirk.

"Yes," he replies with a nostalgic smile. "Yes, I did. And there are far more interesting things than television right now," he says with a suggestive smile as he turns to kiss her.

***A few days later***

"Patrick."

He opens his eyes to see Lorelai standing above him. "What?"

She turns and directs his attention to the tv. "I think one of your team members was shot."

He sits up and listens, now feeling as if he's just been doused with a bucket of ice water, to the newsman with the bad toupee speak in overly dramatic tones. "_Agent Teresa Lisbon was shot a few hours ago by Emilio Sanso, witness and best friend to Lily Manscovic, the victim lying in a back alleyway just days ago. We go live to Trisha Yearwood outside of the hospital the state agent was admitted to earlier. Trisha?"_

"_Thanks, Mike," t_he bottle blonde woman monotonously thanks her colleague before proceeding with her spiel._ "The doctors at Sacramento General say the damage was extensive but that the state agent is stable for now. It is believed that Sanso shot her in the chest, just missing her heart by a couple of inches. Back to you, Mike."_

"_Thank you, Trisha," _the reporter Mike responds_. "And now we go to Ron James just outside of the California Bureau of Investigation where Agent Lisbon's team is arriving. Ron?"_

He sees his former teammates all step out of the government issued van and angrily make their way toward the building, the reporter Ron just off camera. _"Agents, how do you explain this?" _

He watches Van Pelt turn briefly to the reporter and answer the question with a quiet and controlled tone, rage undoubtedly bubbling just below the surface. "_Sanso wasn't a suspect_."

"_Well, he sure as hell is now_," Rigsby mutters under his breath but the mic catches it and so does Jane.

The eager reporter does't stop there_. "Do you feel guilty at all? How could this have been prevented? Did Agent Lisbon somehow provoke Sanso?"_

Van Pelt and Rigsby both turn murderous gazes to the camera before Cho gives them both a rough push toward the building. "_Inside, now!_" he orders, throwing one last look of disgust at the cameras before following his colleagues.

The camera switches back to Mike in the studio. "_Stay tuned later tonight as we update you on the state agent's condition from the hospital and Director Gale Bertram gives a public statement on the situation involving Sanso and Agent Lisbon._" Jane presses the power button on the remote, unable to hear anymore.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: We've covered this so many times...**

* * *

She stops short and pauses in her movement to close the front door of her apartment behind her. She lets out a quiet sigh of exasperation at the smell of tea. She drops her bag on the floor and closes the door, purposely not locking it. She doesn't expect him to stay long.

"Should've known you'd drop by," she speaks to the darkness, knowing he's most likely set up camp on her couch. "Never could pass up the opportunity to gloat. So, let's hear it then." She gestures dramatically, goading him. "Tell me all about how the great Patrick Jane would have known just by looking at Emilio Sanso that there was some tiny significant detail about the man that was just so _obvious_ that he was the killer that he would have never made some mistake that was _so moronic_ but because I and the team don't have your magnificent powers of observation, we just don't see what's so blatantly obvious to you and I get shot. Go on, tell me." She stops in front of the couch, staring at the figure in the dark that she can't see but she knows is there.

Jane leans over and turns on a lamp without putting down his tea. "You blame yourself." It wasn't a question.

"Who says I blame anyone?" She asks incredulously as if the thought was utterly ridiculous.

"You blame yourself for not seeing it coming but the team blames me."

"Because it's always about you?" She asks, shooting him a pointed look.

"How are you feeling?" He asks, ignoring her hostility.

She crosses her arms, ignoring the feeling of her stitches pulling. "Fine…though I'm debating on whether or not I should call Cho. In case you haven't noticed, the guys aren't exactly happy with you."

He sets down his tea, crossing his legs and folding his hands on his knees. "I noticed. They're probably thinking that you wouldn't have gotten hurt had I not left and they're probably right. Perhaps I should come back to the CBI, prevent you from getting shot when the guy is so obviously dangerous," he quips with a smirk, using her own words against her.

She doesn't take the bait, instead choosing to glare at him icily. "Why? Because you feel guilty? No. Solve your own problems in a healthy way like a normal person."

"Lisbon, it's okay if you blame me. No one would blame you," he finishes unsurely, scrunching his face up at his own choice of words. He shakes his head of it, turning calm eyes to her.

"Jane, I don't blame you for me getting shot. That's between me and Sanso. You weren't there."

"No, but I should have been," he mutters quietly.

"No, you shouldn't have," she quietly corrects him. "You were never interested in actually putting the bad guys away, Jane…Patrick. You were using us, the CBI, the team…me," she says sadly. She sighs. "We're all just a means to an end with you."

"Lisbon, it may have started out that way – "

"And it ended that way," she says, cutting him off. She doesn't let him speak. The more he talks, the more he can try to charm his way back into her good graces and that is something can't allow. She can't afford it right now.

"And there's nothing I can do to change your mind." Again, it isn't a question.

"Well, I'd like to say I doubt that you wouldn't be able to find something you could do; but for once, Jane," she pauses and he feels so hopeless, "I doubt that you care enough to try."

He wonders if she can see his heart breaking. "Well, then I guess there's no reason for me to still be here since you're so convinced," he says as he stands and leaves.

* * *

**Torn between leaving this as my very first unhappy ending or adding something set maybe a month later and working towards a happy ending. Thoughts?**


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: Not mine.**

**DO NOT READ FURTHER IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN THE EPISODE RED ROVER OR THE PROMO FOR CRIMSON HAT! There, you've been warned. With that said...Show of hands, who cried tonight over either/both the episode and the promo. *raises hand* Totally not ashamed to admit to that one. My fangirl heart was absolutely crushed in some vice grip and I nearly abandoned this story thinking I had no idea how to fix that crap storm. But, I had to do it for me. I had to show myself that it would be okay. I purposely left the first two chapters vague since I didn't know what was going to happen in these two episodes and I tried to tie it together a little from the info we got tonight. This is the final chapter of this. I could possibly write a sequel but that will have to wait until Fugue in Green is finished. I hope you enjoy the ending as much as I enjoyed writing it. I feel much better now, by the way.**

* * *

Six months ago, Jane had been sitting in a small hotel room, pointing out a killer to a Vegas cocktail waitress…a killer who'd nearly killed a woman who'd been his closest and best friend for longer than he cared to admit to most people.

A few days later, he'd been in her living room. She'd just been discharged from the hospital, caring a duffel bag that likely had held the very clothes she'd been wearing at the time. Now he wondered just who'd packed them. Van Pelt had most likely packed it as the only other woman on the team but Cho had no doubt been the messenger.

He shakes his head, forcing himself to focus on the intimidating sight before him. It was just an office, a glass office. Breathe in, breathe out. The feisty brunette inside the office just now notices him. He absentmindedly wonders how long he's been standing out here. She stands and opens the door, her face adorably scrunched in confusion. "Jane?"

The greeting is so familiar and all the tension gone that it immediately brings a smile to his face. "Hey, Lisbon. I was wondering if I could talk to you for a moment."

"Uh, sure," she says as she steps aside and ushers him inside the office he was still having nightmares about. "What's up?"

"Well, Bertram's going to call you soon but I told him I'd rather talk to you about some things first." He rubs his chin uncertainly. "You see, they would like me to transfer back to your team." He quickly holds up a hand to silence her and she closes her mouth. "Now, I know the team wants nothing to do with me and I can't say I blame them," he says, glancing down as he shuffles his feet nervously. "But, I can deal with that. What I came here for was you, to talk to you…Because, Lisbon, I can't come back to work with you if you don't want me to."

"What about Wainwright?" She can't resist asking. Her smile widens when she realizes he hasn't noticed her smirking this entire time.

"I went over his head, talked to Bertram. I've been working with the CBI again for almost five months now."

"Bouncing from department to department again, I see," she muses, wondering how long it'll take him to look at her.

He shrugs, looking a little embarrassed. "They weren't right somehow."

"They were missing a certain…connection," she supplies seemingly helpfully but he notices the teasing tone in her voice and gives her a pointed look as she grins mischievously for a moment before turning serious. "Jane, you know we no longer have the Red John case."

"I know," he answers simply, only his eyes betraying how serious he is. "Bertram and I already discussed that."

"So he told me."

He stops, his speech failing, his plan fraying at the edges. He locks eyes with her, noticing her triumphant smirk. "What?"

"Bertram. He already told me he talked to you about us not having the Red John case when I talked to him earlier," she says with a big smile.

"And you let me continue to talk because…" He looks to her to fill in the blanks for him.

"I wanted to make sure you knew," she shrugs. "Besides, it seemed like you had this whole thing planned out. I'd hate to let a good speech go to waste."

He shares in her smile. "Well, I'm glad you approve of my speech. By the way," he looks at her surreptitiously, "I haven't heard from Bertram since I talked to him yesterday." He awaits her response with bated breath.

She shakes her head slightly with a teasing smile. "Well, then, I guess you'll have to let Lorelai know that you'll be working even odder hours than you have been in the other departments."

"I can come back, Teresa?" He asks, his voice hopeful.

She turns serious eyes to him and he sees the past hurt in them. "As long as you promise me that you'll never try such an idiotic and dangerous plan before. You're smart enough to know just how many people you could have killed: me, the team, yourself, the businessman you tortured for a confession…"

"I will spend the rest of my days convincing you how serious and truthful I am when I say I promise I will never do any such thing again."

"Okay."

"Oh, and as for your earlier comment about Lorelai, I don't think she'll mind much since we're no longer seeing each other."

"Oh?" She inquires with raised brow, trying desperately to keep the hope out of her voice.

She fails if his genuine, caring smile is anything to go by. "Yeah, well, she's young. She has so much she can do with her life. She's intriguing but she never quite fit right. And it isn't because she wasn't my wife," he says, shooting down her unspoken assumption. "Maybe it wasn't quite the right time but she's helped me learn what's most important out of life and what I want to be doing with mine."

"Well, Jane, I think it's great you're finally moving on," she says diplomatically as she organizes papers on her desk, "and I hope you find someone who fits just right."

"What if I've already found her?" He asks as he looks at her intensely.

She laughs softly as she regards him. "Six more months, Jane, then we'll continue that conversation."

"Six more months, Lisbon," he repeats, shaking his head. "Are you trying to kill me?"

She grants him with a beautiful smile. "Coming from the man who was practically celibate for nearly a decade. Six months won't kill you, Jane." With that, she walks out into the bullpen. He watches as everyone turns their attention to her. A few minutes into her speech, he sees three pairs of eyes turn toward him in the bullpen with icy glares. Six dry months wasn't the only thing that had a good chance of killing him before that much awaited conversation. And yet, he stands there smiling because he knows that no matter how bad things get, he and Lisbon always find a way to work things out.


End file.
